User:TheListUpdater/StarfoxRoy Prank

Notice: In case you were wondering, I shortened my userpage. I will expand it when I feel the need to, though!

Sites I Never Visit
Nintendo Database

ScreamScape

Google Earth Blog

VGCats Webcomic

Writing Skill
I'm sorrry to say that I was held back in the 8th grade--again--for writing badly. Nonsense, really. Like this:


 * It was time.


 * I was just inches away, hoping not to be spotted, watching James Bond in his black tuxedo, drinking red wine while talking. He was talking so grim, so hostile, his cheeks so irregularly disforming as he was making the agreement in the dark, ill lit cafe. Nobody would suspect who he really was. I couldn't stay there much longer. I had to wait for the right time. Somebody would eventually spot me, my feet slightly obscured - but not completely - by the drapes of white keeping stains from reaching the pure marble waiting beneath.


 * But it was too late. A waiter had seen my shoes. It couldn't have ended worse. He was about to tell the man about it, although he was paid by the man to keep silent about his plans, or whoever may come to bring it to an end. He couldn't risk anyone hearing that an agent from Britian was listening to everything he said. It was important for the man to know, but he couldn't risk someone else hearing. He couldn't allow the panic.


 * I started to move. I stopped. I thought. Then I rolled out from under and lashed out. Before I knew it, everything ended in an empty whiteness, everything hard to make out, people talking but no words heard, food scents wafting but nothing smelled. I was now a dog. His plan had worked.


 * I had failed.